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Yesterday, if one was a fan of Seinfeld, was Festivus. Hmmm.
Well, I've an aluminum pole, front yard, holding up my antenna so I can watch digital TV now, except the receptions' bad, of course, and was that by design, I have to wonder?
And it's now time for Phase II: The airing of the grievances. The list is short, but timely:
-President Barack Obama. Dude, you are a ripoff and then some. All politicians make campaign promises, and in performance-to-promises, you've outdone dear old Dick Nixon! Instead of ending two wars, they will now go on forever, was Orwell that accurate?
Funny. I had all these visions of a man who would emulate FDR, all he needed was the monacle and cigarette holder. What a shocker, eh? Kissing the ass of Wall Street. Kissing the ass of the Corporati, and now, rimming the health care insurance Ferengi. Boy, was we fooled!
Barry, sir, it's a guarantee: You're a one-termer. I'll see to that, yes. Made my list to El Numero Uno for failures.
-A Democrat-controlled congress. What is with you clowns? Look, Newt's gone, okay? Compromise? Whatever for? Didn't the last eight years offer some semblance of a fucking clue? That the Republicans are so out of touch with reality as to be labeled psychopaths, all?
Congress, based on this year alone, has won my Marie Antoinette Award for Best Reminder Of Why The French Kicked Ass in 1790 and on. It's going to be damned interesting to see the citizens revolt on this insipid, callous and idiotic idea of making everyone purchase that....they cannot afford. Goddamn, that LSD you guys drop! Can we get some, too?
-My local Democratic Party. Chutzpah Award! Calling me up and asking for some money. And for what? Eight more years of Nixon-Reagan-Bush-Asshat, thank you? Please sir, may I have another? Deeper, please, yes, oh that hurts!!
-Teabaggers. Where do we begin with you morans(sic)? I understand your anger, in some ways, you've got the right idea, but your direction and goals are playing right into Wall Street and Rupert Murdoch's eviltry. Your racism, sexism, whatever-ism...we see it all too clearly, you fool nobody. Please, don the sheets and we can all stop pretending what you really want, m'kay?
Oh, and get a sprellchkr, yr sprellin un yr sgins makess my eyess bleed.
(Somewhere in God's beautiful paradise, my dear third-grade English teacher smiles down at me....)
-J.J. Abrams. Sir, that was a Star WARS remake. Not Star TREK. Please do not attempt such ever again. Go the hell away and leave The Lady as she always was, m'kay? Or, next time, keep in mind Hitchcock's Three Laws Of Making A Great Picture?
The script, the script and the script. Learn or quit, dude.
-America, in general: I pity you, I really do. For reasons I cannot fathom, you've yet to realize you are living in an Orwellian wet dream. Some of us, who majored in planetary history have seen this for some time, the part that is regrettable is that too many of you don't get the joke. Please turn off Survivor and open up any decent textbook on the descent of the Mayans, the Anasazi, or better, re-read Gibbon's opus on how Rome shit itself to death.
The game, America, is now in the last ten seconds of the fourth quarter, fourth down, and there are little penalty flags left to hurl. I can see where it's headed, and unless you've studied history as have I, you are in for a shock worse than letting power lines touch your bathwater.
Please re-read the Declaration. Notice the grievances. And do they sound hauntingly familiar, an echo of destiny itself? Same exact shit. About as much difference as .001 and .0011, capice? Our forefathers saw it, why can't you?
Oh, well, go spend what you've got left at Wal-Mart. Play the game to the bitter whistle. You were warned. Mark my words: YOU WERE WARNED.
Okay, that's it. I said it was a short list. Now, let's get on the mat, it's time for Feats Of Strength! No, lifting a beer doesn't qualify, sorry, maybe next year, m'kay?
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